


It's All Wrong But It's All Right

by faithtastic



Category: Damages, Gossip Girl
Genre: AU, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-27
Updated: 2010-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 06:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting at a party provides a diversion from Ellen's personal vendetta against Patty Hewes. AU-ish and set during Damages S2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Wrong But It's All Right

Ellen's hovering around the canapés, internally debating whether she should try the shrimp or just avoid seafood altogether, when there's a tap on her shoulder.

She jumps slightly, clutching a hand to her chest, and turns to see Michael Hewes.

"Hey Ellen," Michael says with a disarming smile, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Thanks again for looking over my admission essay."

Beside him there's a tall, striking blonde and Ellen spares the girl a quick glance. She's looking at Ellen strangely and Ellen wonders if her being startled by Michael looked just as embarrassing as it felt.

"Oh, you're welcome," Ellen says, self-consciously dropping her hand. "You must be so excited."

"Yeah, and intimidated. It's Yale, after all."

They share a polite laugh and Michael seems to suddenly remember his manners. "Ellen, this is my friend Serena."

Serena reaches out a hand and Ellen shakes it. "Nice to meet you," the girl says, all bright eyes and matching bright smile.

Michael looks beyond Ellen's shoulder. "Ah, there she is." Ellen follows his line of sight to see Patty chatting to a couple of party guests that she vaguely recognises from the last fundraiser Patty threw. "Excuse me a minute, Ellen. I'll let my mother know you're here."

Ellen opens her mouth to delay him but he's gone before she has the chance to say anything, leaving her alone with the blonde girl.

They look at each other for a moment and Ellen finds herself stymied for smalltalk.

"So," Serena tilts her head and Ellen can't help but feel she's being scrutinised, "you work for Patty Hewes?"

"Yes, I've been with the firm for almost a year now." Ellen clears her throat. "Do you go to school with Michael?"

Serena smiles, shakes her head. "No. We just know each other socially."

They lapse into silence and Ellen uses the opportunity to take a sip from her champagne flute, her gaze making a quick sweep of the room. When she looks back at Serena there's a slightly perplexed expression on the girl's face.

"Sorry, I don't mean to stare. It's just that you kind of look like a friend of mine," Serena says. "You could be sisters."

A tolerant smile touches Ellen's lips and she shrugs. "Well, my sister and I are nothing alike."

***

It's later, when the party's in full swing, and Ellen's had perhaps a few too many glasses of champagne that someone slips onto the bar stool next to her.

She expects Patty, maybe, or Tom so when she glances across and sees Serena signalling the bartender, she's surprised.

Ellen's first thought is: when did it become commonplace to serve drinks to underage girls at private functions? When the place is full of lawyers and politicians and high ranking city officials?

Serena's eyes flick to the drink that Ellen's been nursing for the past half hour. "Two more dirty martinis, please."

When the drinks arrive Serena turns to her. There's a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. "Enjoying the party?"

Ellen lifts her glass and drains the remnants of her drink. "Getting there." She reaches for the fresh martini in front of her. "Cheers."

They clink glasses and share a confidential smirk.

Serena watches her steadily over the rim of her glass and Ellen feels herself flush (which she blames entirely on the alcohol and not on this gorgeous blonde who is inexplicably flirting with her).

And it must be the alcohol that's fuelling this sudden boldness that's taken hold of her. "This person I remind you of... is she a friend or something more?"

Serena stares into her glass, a flicker of something indefinable stealing across her face before disappearing. She gives an elegant shrug. "It's complicated."

***

Shortly before midnight, when Ellen's retrieving her coat and preparing to leave, Serena catches her by the sleeve and presses a piece of paper into her hands.

Ellen looks down at the hastily scrawled digits on the torn scrap of paper.

"My cell phone number," Serena says, hint of a slur in her words.

Ellen glances up, unable to conceal her surprise. She gapes for a moment, then realises that this probably warrants a quick but tactful refusal. "Serena, I'm flattered but I'm not - "

Serena leans down and for a brief, awkward moment Ellen thinks the girl's going to kiss her in front of all these party guests and the treacherous woman who pays her salary. Instead, Serena whispers into her ear. "Me either, mostly," she giggles then presses a soft kiss against Ellen's cheek.

When Serena pulls back there's a lopsided smile on her face. "Let's hang out sometime."

Ellen doesn't say anything, just folds the paper and shoves it into her pocket.

***

Ellen isn't sure what possesses her to call Serena but she does, at lunchtime, with her office door closed over. As soon as she hears the first ring she thinks, _this is a mistake_ , and she's about to hang up when Serena answers with a cheerful, "Hello?"

At first Serena seems thrown, as if she's having trouble placing Ellen's name or recalling where they met but it soon passes and they agree to meet for a post-work, mid-week drink downtown.

As she waits in a booth overlooking the bar Ellen has this anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach that only increases tenfold when Serena strides through the door, dressed in a ridiculously short, shimmery gold dress that seems more appropriate for a nightclub than this stuffy bar frequented by attorneys and bankers. The blonde gives Ellen a little wave, which Ellen acknowledges with a self-conscious wave of her own.

Every pair of male eyes track Serena's progress across the floor and not for the first time Ellen wonders what the hell she was thinking.

***

They're on their second drink and Ellen's starting to feel a little looser though she's still incredibly aware of the heads turned their way.

Serena seems oblivious to the attention, instead her focus is on Ellen. She takes a sip of her cocktail – a Manhattan this time – and gives a coy smile. "So, I have a small confession to make..."

Ellen lifts one eyebrow in question.

"I may have pumped Michael for information about you."

"And?"

"Nothing. You've very mysterious." Serena bites her lip, drops her gaze. "He told me about your fiancé. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Ellen sucks in a breath, tries to control the involuntary shudder that passes through her at the mention of David. She aims for a polite smile and sidesteps the sentiment, well-meaning as it is. After a minute she says, "I did some research of my own. Apparently the face of Waldorf is quite the internet phenomenon..."

"Gossip Girl," Serena says with a wary sigh. She shakes her head. "Don't believe everything you read."

***

Ellen nurses her drink, staring into the contents of her cocktail glass. Third or fourth, she's lost track. "I don't get it. Why you're here with me when you could be out - "

"Partying with the other hedonistic Upper East Siders?" Serena interrupts with a rueful smile. "Been there, done that, experienced the blackouts."

Ellen's eyebrows lift. She was never like that. She'd been studious to the point of being branded a nerd in high school, even through college. It wasn't that she was a wallflower exactly; her parents had worked too damn hard to pay her college tuition for her to throw her life away partying.

Now that solid work ethic is all she has left.

Serena shrugs, a tinge of colour in her cheeks. "I'm mostly over that phase." She meets Ellen's gaze head on. "I just feel like you're someone I could talk to without, y'know, all the petty teen drama. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Ellen nods. "It does."

***

The next time they meet Serena takes her out to a club.

Ellen hasn't been to a club since God knows when, having managed to resist Katie's attempts to drag her out on numerous occasions, but her protests fall on deaf ears with Serena.

She feels conspicuous surrounded by all these rich young things. The music is fast and frenetic and not to her taste, the seismic baseline setting her teeth on edge.

She forces a smile as Serena weaves through the crowd with two glasses in hand, filled with something that looks luridly bright and toxic.

"What do you think?" Serena practically yells over the music.

Ellen leans in to be heard. "It's loud."

Serena's lips brush Ellen's ear as she leans in close. "Loud? What are you, forty? Come on. You just need to loosen up a little bit." She takes Ellen's free hand in her own and tugs her towards the packed dancefloor.

At first Ellen resists, shaking her head, but Serena gives her this wounded puppy look and she finds her resolve crumbling. With a sigh Ellen knocks back her drink and deposits the empty glass on a nearby table, allowing Serena to lead her by the hand.

There's precious little space on the floor and Ellen feels the press of bodies from every side so she's forced to step into Serena's personal space. The blonde smirks at her and closes the tiny distance between them, resting her hands lightly on Ellen's waist. Ellen moves with Serena, soon finding the beat despite her discomfort as the strobe lighting shutters across her vision. It isn't long before she feels Serena's leg slip snugly between her own and the not-so-subtle rotation of Serena's hips.

She looks up to see Serena watching her with hooded eyes and feels a prickle of heat that has nothing to do with the humidity of the club.

***

It's almost like an out of body experience for Ellen when Serena follows her wordlessly to the bathroom, into a vacant stall.

It's real, though, when her back connects with the partition wall, when Serena's lips crash against her own. Hands splayed on either side of Ellen's shoulders, Serena traps her in place.

Within seconds Serena's tongue is in her mouth and Ellen's hands slip around and down Serena's back to grip her ass, pulling Serena flush against her, eliminating the last inch of space between them.

Fingers fumble with the zipper on Ellen's pants, sliding quickly under the waistband of her underwear. She breaks the kiss with a gasp, eyes searching unfocused blue ones for a moment.

 _This isn't me_ , Ellen thinks but she does nothing to stop the exploration of Serena's fingers. It's wrong, gloriously wrong, but it's exactly what she needs; something so beyond her own frame of reference, so far removed from her dead fiancé and the mess that is her fucked-up life. It's escapism; desperate release from plotting the downfall of Patty Hewes.

So Ellen kisses Serena hard, hungrily, before she loses her nerve.

***

A week later, Ellen gets summoned to Patty's office.

"Patty? You wanted to see me?"

Patty inclines her head towards the chair opposite her desk. "Take a seat."

Sliding the office door closed, Ellen does as instructed. Folds her hands neatly into her lap and looks at the other woman expectantly.

"It's come to my attention that you've recently become involved with a seventeen year old prep school girl. Is that true?"

Ellen's first instinct is to vehemently refute it. And she opens her mouth to do just that when Patty pushes a pile of photographs across the desk.

Ellen glances down and her lips form a thin, hard line of resignation. That old adage about the camera never lying is true; despite the blur of lips and hair, she sees, quite distinctly, herself and Serena van der Woodsen shoved up against the back seat of a limo. There's really no mistaking the dress bunched around Serena's waist or the hand – Ellen's hand - buried between tanned thighs.

"Do you spy on all your employees?"

Patty's lip curls – half smirk, half reproach. "Only those who are cause for concern. And you potentially bringing my firm into disrepute is a legitimate cause for concern, Ellen."

"What I do in my private life is none of your business."

"It is when your so-called private life gets splashed across the gossip columns and becomes public domain." Patty leans forward, elbows resting on the desk and Ellen has this irrational feeling of being 16 again and being dragged before the high school principal. She hates that after everything that's happened Patty can still make her feel this way. "I expect my employees to conduct themselves with a certain level of professionalism both inside and outside this building, not to draw negative attention to themselves. Do you understand me?"

Ellen stares at her for a long moment, then lifts her chin. "Yes. I understand."

Flinty grey-blue eyes soften slightly. Patty leans back in her chair. "Ellen, I understand that you're still grieving and often grief makes us do impulsive things. But my tolerance for this kind of behaviour only goes so far."

"Is that an ultimatum?"

"No, just a piece of advice," Patty says, allowing a small smile. "If you want to pursue an affair with some spoiled trust fund brat acting out against her parents, society and the world at large then, by all means, do. But, for God's sake, try to be discreet."

Smoothing her skirt, Ellen stands. "Well, thanks. I'll take that into consideration."

***

As soon as Ellen's safely inside her office she slumps against the edge of her desk and tries to get her racing heartbeat under control.

 _Fuckfuckfuck_. What else does Patty know? How long has she been watching, having her followed? Suddenly she feels sick with the uncertainty, the second guessing and having to keep up this mask of calm indifference.

The beep of her Blackberry sounds, a welcome intrusion. She reaches for it, lips quirking despite herself as her eyes flick over the text message.

 _Dinner and drinks 2nite? S x_

She thinks about Patty's 'advice', the thinly veiled threat contained therein, and she's almost inclined to indulge her destructive streak. Instead she texts back:

 _Working late, sorry. Another time?_

The response comes a minute later, perfectly succinct.

 _:-(_

Despite herself, Ellen's smiles. Abandoning the flimsy medium of text message, she dials Serena's cell.

"Hey," Serena says, sounding adorably despondent. There are female voices chattering and laughing in the background. Ellen wonders if Serena's at school then quickly sidelines that thought.

"Hey yourself," Ellen says as she rounds the desk, taking a seat. "I gather you're not happy about me nixing your plans?"

There's a short pause and Ellen hears Serena exhale, the sound almost lost to the cacophony of lunchtime traffic. "It's fine. Your work is important so..."

"How about a compromise? Take out, my place? I should be done by 8.30."

Instantly Serena perks up. "I'm amenable to that."

There's a sense of relief, almost, because Ellen needs this distraction.

***

When Ellen answers the door, still dressed in the black pencil skirt and blouse of work attire, she finds herself driven backwards by the unstoppable force of lips and arms as Serena flows forward. Restless hands seek out her hips, waist, anything they can get purchase on and her own fingers sink into a silky mass of blonde hair.

Serena's enthusiasm for kissing is inexhaustible and soon Ellen's panting under this onslaught.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," Serena mutters hotly against her mouth, briefly allowing Ellen a second to catch her breath before diving in again.

Ellen's back is against the wall and Serena, towering over her in four inch Louboutins, is pressed tightly to her. Every point of contact – knee, hip, breasts – feels amplified and Ellen shivers with desire.

She barely has the presence of mind to reach beyond Serena, for the door that's still sitting wide open before Serena's hiking up her skirt and shoving a hand between her thighs.

"Please," she breathes out against the column of Serena's throat when her underwear is hastily pushed aside and there are fingers gliding against her clit. "Fuck me."

Compliant and ever eager to please, Serena proceeds to do exactly that.

***

Ellen awakens to long limbs wrapped around her. In the semi-darkness she suffers a moment of disorientation when she feels warm lips on her shoulder. _David...?_ That thought jolts her back to reality and she's intensely aware of the thinness of the arms around her, the cushion of ample breasts against her back, the scent of perfume not her own on her pillow.

"You dozed off," Serena says, breath gusting softly across Ellen's cheek.

Ellen turns in the circle of Serena's arms, mortified.

Serena laughs, a low chuckle that reverberates in her throat. "It's okay. You look really peaceful when you're sleeping."

Blue eyes gaze down on her, a look that's both gentle and teasing.

"Sorry," Ellen says, passing a hand over her eyes and letting out a harsh breath. "It's been a long day."

Arms tighten around her, hugging her, and it's this - this closeness – that makes Ellen's chest feel tight. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. My boss is the devil incarnate." Ellen attempts a small smile, one that never reaches her eyes. "But I don't want to think about her right now."

Serena arches an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Gamely she allows Ellen to push her on to her back and straddle her waist. Those blue eyes darken by a few shades as they stare up at Ellen, as Serena bites down on her bottom lip. Hands slide up Ellen's thighs, using just a hint of nail and Ellen shivers under that touch.

When Ellen meets Serena's gaze, a voice sounds in her head – one that sounds disturbingly like her mother – and it says _you are so going to hell in a handbasket for this_. Because there's this disconnect in Ellen's mind when it comes to Serena; she's young, young enough for this to be categorically wrong, yet there's a worldliness, a rare self-assurance for a girl of her age – _18, she's almost 18_ , Ellen repeats silently like a mantra - that's incredibly alluring.

"If I was taking advantage of you you'd tell me, right?" Ellen asks suddenly. It's a strange time to get in a moral quandary, she'll admit, when Serena's hands are now firmly on her breasts.

A grin stretches across Serena's lips. "I seem to remember it was me who seduced you." Then she rolls her hips as if to emphasise the point and it causes this fire to flare up in Ellen's belly.

When Ellen's hand dips between Serena's legs, the blonde lets out this sound that makes the hairs on Ellen's neck stand on end.

***

They're having dinner, Serena's treat (Ellen can't quite shake the discomfort she feels about that) at a bistro within walking distance of Serena's penthouse suite at the Palace.

Tucked away in a booth at the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, Ellen prods at her chicken caesar salad without much enthusiasm.

Work has been hell this past week, Patty raging at the latest obstruction to the UNR case and snapping at everyone at every opportunity, and Ellen couldn't wait for this day to be over.

Now she feels dull and deflated opposite Serena's buoyant sheen, tired where Serena is full of restless exuberance. She isn't really listening to Serena's conversation, the words washing over her, so she misses the question when it's asked of her.

It's only when she realises Serena's looking at her expectantly that she shakes herself out of the daze she's in.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ellen asks, blinking.

"I said, do you think it's unreasonable for me to want to spend the summer in the city instead of the Hamptons? Blair's acting like I said I wanted to become a hippy and join a commune or something." Serena frowns, reaches across the table to cover Ellen's hand with her own. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."

Ellen gives a smile and puts down her fork. "It's just work. This week's been..." She shakes her head, trying to dispel thoughts of Patty fucking Hewes. "Who's Blair?"

"She's a friend. My best friend since we were in kindergarten, actually."

"Is she the one who looks like me?"

Serena colours slightly, breaks eye contact for a moment. "It's only a vague resemblance."

Ellen lifts her fork, bringing a morsel of chicken to her mouth. She chews ruminatively then swallows, eyes fixed on Serena's. "Do you think she'll sleep with you if you go to the Hamptons with her?"

Serena almost chokes as she takes a sip of water. "Uh, Blair's straight. Painfully so." Recovering her composure, she tucks an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "We've shared a couple of drunken kisses but, no, I don't think she would ever sleep with me."

"Sometimes people surprise you," Ellen says with a faint smile.

"No," Serena says firmly. "She's infatuated with Chuck Bass and, anyway, things would change. It'd be too weird."

"More so than this?" Ellen tempers her words with a rueful lift of her eyebrows.

Long tanned fingers rest on Ellen's own smaller pale ones.

Serena leans forward, her eyes very clear and very blue. "Blair doesn't know what she wants and I don't want to waste my last summer before college chasing a ghost of a possibility." Serena thumb sweeps softly over Ellen's hand. "Not when I'm on to a sure thing."

***

Ellen's fixing a couple of drinks in the kitchen when she hears a low whistle. She turns, realising too late there's one thing she forgot to tidy away.

Katie has a jewellery box in her hands and she's inspecting the diamond bracelet contained within, lifting it out and bringing it up to the light. "Jesus Christ, Ellen. You got a sugar daddy you're not telling me about?"

Ellen doesn't answer, just grabs the box and bracelet out of Katie's hands and breezes into the bedroom to deposit them in her underwear drawer.

When she returns to the living room, Katie's sipping on a mojito through a straw. She watches Ellen carefully for a minute. "I'm not judging you. In fact, if you don't want him, feel free to send him my way."

Ellen shakes her head. "It's not what you think."

"So tell me," Katie says with a grin then her smile slips. "Look, it's been months now. He'd want you to -"

"Don't," Ellen says in a warning tone, then sighs. "Just don't."

Katie opens her mouth to say more but a sudden knock at the door interrupts.

Wary, since she isn't expecting any visitors, Ellen goes to the door and checks the spy hole. _Shit._

She takes the chain off and opens the door a few inches. "Serena, sorry - this isn't really a good time," she says quietly, hoping that Katie won't overhear.

Serena frowns. "Well, hello to you too. You got my gift, right?"

"Yes. It's beautiful, thank you. I'm just a little busy right now."

Serena peers past her shoulder, her gaze falling on Katie and her blue eyes narrow. "Uh, who's she?"

Ellen glances over her shoulder to see Katie blinking back at her. She gives an apologetic smile and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

"That's Katie, David's sister," Ellen responds, keeping her voice low because, knowing Katie, the woman's probably listening at the door.

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry, Ellen. I just, I wanted to make sure you got the present and that you liked it," Serena says, chagrined.

"It's okay," Ellen says, lifting a hand to cup Serena's cheek. She presses a quick kiss to the corner of Serena's mouth. "I'll call you later, okay?"

Ellen's eyes linger on Serena's retreating back for a moment before she lets herself back in to the apartment, bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

Katie's on the couch now, arms crossed and lips pursed. "Ellen Parsons, tell me you're not screwing that kid?"

The silence is answer enough.

Katie gives a sudden, startling bark of laughter. "Fuck, Ellen! You're a dark horse."

Perhaps it's relief or perhaps hysteria, but Ellen finds herself laughing too. "It's... God, I don't know what it is. It's crazy."

"And she bought you that bracelet? What is she – an heiress?" On Ellen's nod, Katie's eyes widen.

"Something like that. Her family come from old money I think."

"God," Katie mutters, shaking her head, seemingly struggling to take this all in. She pauses, bites her lip and looks at Ellen speculatively. "And... how's the sex?"

Part of Ellen can't even believe they're discussing this. She crosses over to the kitchen, retrieving her own drink and takes a long swallow. "It's, um, it's good. Different." She realises Katie's staring at her, expecting her to elaborate. "Okay, it's pretty fucking fabulous."

They both dissolve into laughter for a few minutes.

"So... does she have any bi-curious friends she could hook me up with?"

"Katie!"

"Kidding."

***

It's gone 2am by the time Katie leaves, stumbling into a cab that whisks her off to her own apartment across town.

Ellen's restless, not ready for sleep, so she picks up her cell phone and settles back on the couch, feet up on the cushions.

It rings a few times before Serena answers with a sluggish, "Hey."

"Hey," Ellen responds, smiling. "Did I wake you?"

"Mmhm," Serena says through an audible yawn.

"You want to come over? Katie's gone," Ellen asks, a deliberately seductive note in her voice. She hears a whisper in the background, something like 'who is that?' She sits up abruptly. "Are you with someone?"

There's a rustle, maybe Serena covering the mouthpiece with her hand, then the muted sound of voices. "I'm with a friend."

"Oh." That makes Ellen frown. She feels a sliver of something unpleasant rise in her throat. "Blair?"

"Yeah."

Ellen exhales harshly. "Okay, never mind. Enjoy fucking her."

"Ellen -"

She doesn't give Serena the opportunity to finish, ending the call and switching her phone off. Instead she reaches for the half-empty bottle of vodka sitting on the coffee table and pours herself a double measure.

By the time the intercom buzzes forty minutes later she's passed from angry drunk to maudlin. She tries to ignore the insistent buzzing for a few minutes but when it looks like her early morning visitor isn't going to give up, she relents.

"What?" she sighs heavily into the speaker.

Serena's disembodied voice sounds, distant and crackly. "Can I come up? Please?"

Minutes later and Serena's standing in her doorway, casually dressed in jeans and a short naval style jacket that clings snugly to her long, lean frame, hair scooped up into a loose ponytail. For someone who's been interrupted from their sleep she looks remarkably fresh.

Unsteady on her feet, Ellen leans against the wall and lets her gaze make a slow sweep up Serena's body. Despite her sour mood, Ellen just wants to swallow her up, plunge her fingers inside and twist until Serena's begging her to stop and begging her to continue in the same breath.

"I'm not sleeping with her," Serena says patiently, keeping a safe distance. "We were watching movies and I stayed over, just like I have hundreds of times before."

"Aren't you a little old for slumber parties?"

"Aren't you a little old to be jealous of a teenage girl?"

Ellen feels the sting of Serena's words like a slap across the face, jolting her out of the moment and into sudden sobriety. She scrubs a hand over her face and sighs. "I'm sorry."

Serena approaches, not stopping until she's in front of Ellen. She brings her hands up, holding Ellen's head and gently urging her to meet her gaze. "It's okay." A confident smirk edges over Serena's lips. "So, is this a booty call or did I take a town car over here for nothing?"

***

When Serena tells Ellen that her mother, Lily van der Woodsen, is throwing a small celebration for Serena's 18th birthday, just a few select family and friends, Ellen accepts the invitation with only marginal trepidation.

So when she shows up to find 300 guests packing a function room at the Four Seasons, she's relieved she went with her first instinct to go formal. Still, she can't help feeling like an interloper wearing a dress she picked up at a sample sale last year. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to these people and how at ease they are with their wealth.

Other than Serena she doesn't know anyone here so she gravitates towards the buffet. As she's attempting to load a plate without looking like a complete glutton she's feels the briefest press of warm lips against the nape of her neck and she freezes.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," a familiar voice says, laden with amusement. A gust of soft breath against her skin causes a shiver to ripple down Ellen's spine.

Ellen turns to see Serena smiling widely, blue eyes sparkling. She's wearing a gorgeous purple off-the-shoulder number that makes Ellen feel woefully under-dressed in comparison.

"I wish you'd told me it was a black tie event," Ellen mutters though she can't hide her smile at seeing Serena. "I would've maxed my credit card on something more suitable."

"You look amazing," Serena says earnestly. She lifts her hand to brush a loose strand of hair off Ellen's face, taking the the opportunity to sweep her thumb surreptitiously over Ellen's cheek. "God, I really want to kiss you right now."

Ordinarily Serena would throw caution to the wind and do exactly as she likes but these are her people, this is her world. Here, the rules are different.

Ellen smiles, taking a step away, putting a respectable distance between them. "It's your birthday. Go. Mingle," she says, making a shooing motion with her free hand.

***

It's after Ellen's downed her second glass of Louis Roederer Cristal champagne that she's approached by a haughty brunette, flanked by two other girls - all wearing colour coordinated headbands.

The brunette gives her cursory once-over and speaks without preamble. "There's something you should know about Serena."

Ellen gives a bland smile. "Oh?"

"Serena's flighty. She bores easily. You're just the latest in a long line of dalliances." The girl casts a another dismissive glance over Ellen's ensemble. "And you certainly won't be the last."

"I'm touched by your concern," Ellen responds flatly, "but it's really none of your business. So why don't you and your little friends run on back to the party."

The brunette's mouth twitches. "Who do you think you're talking to? My mother, _Eleanor Waldorf_ , is a client of Patty Hewes. I could have you fired."

Ellen has the audacity to laugh. "Oh, sweetie, I'd love to see you try."

With that, she turns her back on the girl.

***

A short time later Serena glides up to Ellen, slinging a loose arm around her waist. There's booze on her breath, which explains the sudden handsiness and possessive grip. "I see you and Blair became acquainted."

" _That_ was Blair?"

"Mmhmm."

Ellen gives an incredulous stare. "We look nothing alike."

Serena shrugs. "I never said you were twins." She pops an olive into her mouth as she looks down at Ellen, a smirk turning up the corner of her mouth. "I guess I have a thing for short, reserved brunettes with quietly forceful personalities."

"Forceful isn't a word I'd use to describe her," Ellen grumbles. "Entitled, certainly. Rude, definitely. Arrogant and -"

"Ellen."

The pout on Serena's face makes some of Ellen's irritation dissipate.

"She made some idle threats about having me fired," Ellen says, shaking her head in disbelief. "Honestly, I've never had the misfortune to meet such a spoiled little madam."

Serena sighs. "I'll speak to her."

"I'm not intimidated by her."

"I know, just let me handle Blair."

***

Judging by the barely-veiled glare of simmering anger that Blair directs her way as she leaves, Ellen guesses that Serena had that talk with her. She's not worried. Part of her wants the infamous Eleanor Waldorf to make a complaint, wants Patty to haul her in to her office on Monday morning and fire her because finally she'd be done with this.

Though she's no nearer to bringing down Patty, she's finding increasingly that she doesn't have the appetite for pursuing vendettas. The sleepless nights and the constant looking over her shoulder are wearing her down to the point that she's almost ready to throw in the towel and admit defeat. Except that she owes it to David to see this through to the bitter end, doesn't she?

"Hey," Serena says, dispelling Ellen's brooding thoughts for the moment. There a tiny, endearing crease of concern marring the otherwise perfect smoothness of Serena's forehead. "You seem miles away. You're bored, aren't you?"

"No, not at all," Ellen replies quickly, turning on a smile that makes her cheeks ache. "I'm fine, really."

Sometimes Ellen toys with the idea of telling Serena the real reason she hates Patty; sometimes Ellen's so close to saying it that she has to bite down hard on her tongue to stop herself.

But Serena just has to give one of those beautiful, carefree smiles and it's all the reminder Ellen needs that it would be wrong to burden someone as happy-go-lucky as Serena with the unpalatable truth of what Patty did to her.

What would it achieve anyway? Serena would either laugh it off, thinking Ellen was making some exaggerated joke, or the blonde would be filled with righteous indignation and want to charge off to throttle Patty herself. Either way, it would tarnish Serena's shine and Ellen can't bring herself to do that.

The blonde cranes her neck, gazing past a few pockets of guests chattering in front of them. She touches Ellen's elbow lightly. "Come on, I want you to meet my mother."

Alarm flits across Ellen's face. "Are you sure?"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to introduce you as the person who's nailing her daughter."

***

It's 4.13am, according to the digital clock on the bedside table, and Ellen's languidly aware that sleep is an increasingly unlikely prospect. Tomorrow – well, technically today – she has a day filled with depositions, poring over reports and eyewitness accounts and already she knows it's going to drag, that Patty will be irritable and unreasonably demanding.

Right now, Ellen couldn't care less.

The gentle whirr of the ceiling fan fills the room but it's doing precious little to cool the air on this balmy mid-summer night. It probably doesn't help that Ellen's pressed tightly to the other occupant of her bed but she's loathe to move. They're tangled in bedsheets and there's dampness pooling at the base of Ellen's spine, her skin clammy against the backs of Serena's thighs and the long slope of the blonde's back.

She bends and brings her mouth to Serena's neck, tongue darting out to taste. She feels Serena shift slightly under her mouth, a quiet mumble lost against the pillow, before Serena rolls onto her back.

One enormous yawn later and Serena's blinking at her with heavy eyelids. "Hey, can't sleep?"

Ellen's only response is to straddle Serena's thighs and bring her mouth down swiftly, swallowing Serena's soft exhalation of surprise.

Afterwards, with an orgasm apiece and both covered in a slick sheen of sweat, Serena lets her fingers trace lazy patterns over Ellen's abdomen. The touch causes these pleasant little shivers to ripple down the length of Ellen's body and leaves her smiling placidly despite the tiredness pressing behind her eyes.

"Did I tell you that next weekend I'm heading to Brown to check out some accommodation off-campus?"

The question isn't surprising but the way Ellen's stomach drops in reaction to it is. She knew this was coming. It's an inevitability that she hasn't really given any thought – Serena will go to college in the fall and, well, Ellen hasn't considered what will happen between them because they've never talked about it.

"No," Ellen replies, aiming for a casual tone and hoping Serena doesn't see her frown in the darkness. "So dorms aren't befitting of a van der Woodsen?"

Serena laughs softly. "No, I think my mom's just terrified that I'll hook up with my room-mate since I clearly can't be trusted around other girls now. It's a miracle she's even letting me out of her sight."

She presses a kiss to the top of Ellen's head and the tenderness of the gesture isn't lost on Ellen. "Not that I'm planning on hooking up with anyone anyway."

Ellen props herself up on one elbow and the fingers still on her stomach. "Serena... I don't want you to think that you don't have the freedom to date or whatever just because of what we're doing."

"What are we doing exactly?"

Ellen sighs, rubs the heel of her hand against one eyelid. "I don't know but you don't need to feel any kind of obligation towards me. I don't want to limit your college experience or -"

"So, what? You're giving me your blessing to go around fucking other people?" Serena retorts, incredulity colouring her tone. "Ellen, I haven't slept with anyone else since I met you. I mean, I introduced you to my family. Doesn't that tell you something?"

An uneasy silence settles between them.

Ellen looks away, focusing on the twisted bedsheets then the haphazard trail of clothing leading from the doorway, anywhere besides Serena's gleaming eyes.

What are they doing? Most nights Serena's in her bed more often than not. But it isn't just about sex. It isn't just some experiment borne out of bereavement. She can't remember when it stopped being a distraction and morphed into something else. All she knows is that there's something tentative growing between them and all it would take is a choice few words to make it wither.

Ellen looks back at Serena, catches the glimmer of hope in the blonde's face and tries to shove away the guilt that she feels, that tethers her to the past. "Maybe I could travel up some weekends."

"You could," Serena says evenly. She lifts her hand from its resting place on Ellen's stomach and reaches for Ellen's own hand, the bracelet on Ellen's wrist - the one Serena gave her - catching the moonlight filtering through the open window. Serena allows their fingers to tangle loosely. "But you didn't really answer my question."

"No, I don't want you fucking other people," Ellen admits quietly after a long minute, meeting Serena's steady gaze. Even in the semi-darkness her eyes seem to shine. "I was trying to be graceful about the whole thing but, there it is, the pathetic truth. You can go ahead and mock me now."

"Ellen," Serena says, a smile curving her mouth as she shakes her head, "I'm so far away from mocking you right now." She brings their joined hands to her lips and presses a series of tiny kisses to Ellen's knuckles. "You're so beautiful."

There's something about Serena's tone that makes Ellen's throat tight. She strains to keep her own voice light as she responds, "Do you want me to come with you next weekend? We could make it a road trip."

Serena practically beams at that suggestion. "I'd love that." She leans over and kisses Ellen so sweetly and soundly that it causes something within her to loosen in that moment.

Afterwards she looks at Serena and, without guilt, thinks, _David would like her_.


End file.
